


Kākou

by kristen999



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Some Fluff, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristen999/pseuds/kristen999
Summary: This was a new beginning for the both of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imaginary_iby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_iby/gifts).



> No real spoilers except for 6.25.
> 
> My second gift-fic for the holiday season. Based on a prompt from imaginary_iby. I hope you enjoy it!  
> Thank you so much to Gaelicspirit for the swift beta

***

The first house they viewed was a bungalow, a small three-bedroom with plenty of character and a nice backyard lined with trees. Danny thought it was cute and the price was right. Steve scowled. 

It was a no.

The next house was plantation style, built in 1955 reminiscent of romantic “Old Hawaii,” according to their realtor. This one had a large porch with columns, floor to ceiling windows, and an elaborate stairway leading to the second floor. Too big. Danny wanted a single-level: they were easier to clean and kinder on the knees. It was also thirty grand over budget. 

Steve gazed at the pink and blue flowers twining up the front gate with a deep fondness in his eyes. Danny could picture him planting extra bushes on the front lawn, the thought making Danny reconsider his misgivings about climbing stairs the rest of his life.

“I’m not feeling it,” Steve said after a moment. “But if you like it –”

Danny breathed an internal sigh of relief. “No, I agree. I also wasn’t feeling the price. Not to mention there wasn’t enough counter space and you know how much I need to make my grandma’s lasagna.”

A small apartment could have fit in that kitchen, but Steve went along with things, his lips quirking upward in amusement. “You do make a big mess when you cook.” 

Danny loved it when Steve smiled, making the area around his eyes and mouth wrinkle, the fine lines emphasizing the touch of grey in Steve’s hair, the little specs along five o’clock shadow. It made his toes curl. 

He’d spent six years by Steve’s side; it was only a matter of time until they took this next step, even if life tried to have its say.

The sixth house was a California Mission revival with adobe walls, a low-pitched roof with clay tiles, and airy rooms. It was a definite fixer-upper. The bathrooms needed to be gutted, all the floors re-done, everything needed new paint. 

Their real estate agent walked around, flapping her hands as she spoke, ending their tour outside in the backyard. She smiled with lips painted bright pink. “There’s plenty of room in your budget for the remodel, and with a lot of imagination, you guys can put your own stamp on to make it a home.”

Steve stood with a slumped curve of his shoulders, his mouth downturned into a frown. Danny looked out into a backyard of a wild jungle and not a lanai. Definite deal breaker. 

He walked over and stood next to Steve, casual-like. “You know, we could skip this whole house hunting torture thing and look into new construction.”

Steve gave Danny such a fond expression; it almost took his breath away. A Navy SEAL should never react with such surprise at simple thoughtfulness. 

“Come here, you,” Danny said, tugging at the front of Steve’s shirtsleeve. It didn’t take much before Steve wrapped his long arms around Danny’s shoulders, drawing them together. “This is a big decision and it should be perfect, we don’t deserve anything less, okay? If we can’t find what we’re looking for than we’ll build it.”

***

**Incipient**

Danny had three things to pick-up, coffee, a six pack of beer and toilet paper. He could stop at the Five and Dime two miles from Steve’s house, but it was the weekend and he wanted fresh ground Kona for Sunday breakfast. It’d only take an extra ten minutes, a quick detour in and out. Steve was still at HQ filing paperwork that was six weeks overdue. 

The familiar sounds of “Born to Run” started on the radio and Danny turned up the volume—this was perfect driving music. 

***

Danny lay sprawled on his back, wide awake, the ceiling staring back at him as a million thoughts raced through his head. Blueprints, contractors’ quotes, property taxes. Where did they cut? Should they reduce the size of the living room, nix the idea of a four bedroom in order to have guests, and only keep the master and Grace and Charlie’s rooms?

He rolled over onto his side, stuffing a hand between his pillows and watched Steve sleep. It was a favorite, yet rare pastime, and not at all creepy as Steve would complain. The sheets had been kicked past Steve’s waist during the night to reveal the tanned muscles of his stomach. This was peace, watching the rise and fall of Steve’s chest, of his steady breathing, Danny imagining he could hear the very beating of Steve’s heart.

“You’re doing it again,” Steve mumbled.

“Maybe.”

“You should be sleeping.” Steve rolled his head to look over at Danny, his hair all mussed-up and adorable. “What’cha thinking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the weather, if I should make scrambled eggs or have cereal for breakfast. Whether we should give up having a dining room or a big backyard, if we afford granite counter-tops or –”

“Or whatever we decide on.” Steve flipped over onto his side so he faced Danny. “Last time I checked we were in charge of the design.”

“No, actually an architect is in charge of the design, unless the Navy taught you how to draw blueprints.”

“Danny, we don’t have to give up on anything.” Steve reached over and traced lazy patterns over the front of Danny’s chest. “Grace gets a big room; you get a gourmet kitchen….”

Steve’s warm fingers over Danny’s skin was distracting as was the way the sheets continued to get shoved to the bottom of the bed, revealing the way Steve’s dark boxers clung to his thighs.

Danny wet his lips. “And we get a master bedroom with a California King Size. No more sharing a bed only fit for a small child and a single stuffed animal.”

“You never complained about my bed before,” Steve said his voice a throaty growl.

“I never complained about what we did _in_ your bed, but the size and décor? I won’t miss that.” 

Danny regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

Steve’s eyes flicked down and Danny reached out and brushed his fingers over his bare shoulder. “Steve—“ 

“We’re building our dream home,” Steve said as if barking an order. Then he swallowed, fighting his emotions, his voice strained. “We’re not sacrificing any part of it.”

But one of them had to be level-headed. “At two hundred dollars a square foot, I think we have to be practical.”

Danny’s realistic tone must’ve had a calming effect on Steve because he rolled onto his back contemplative. “When I was deployed, I never had rent and all my meals were provided. That’s over ten years of combat pay as a special operator.”

Not a chance in hell. 

“We’re not depleting all of your savings.”

“That’s what savings are for, Danny.”

But Steve didn’t get it and Danny sat up in bed, years of past frustration and resentment boiling to the surface. “No, we’re doing this together, equally.”

“I have the money. Life’s too short…” Steve’s words trailed off as he stared over at Danny’s chest, down his belly, lingering on the incision scar.

Danny took Steve’s hand and placed his fingers over the start of the scar. It was flat now and only slightly pink. After three months the numbness had recently begun fading to a pins and needles sensation. 

Danny pressed Steve’s fingers over the line, tracing it down toward his naval, making the skin beneath tingle from the pressure. “I’d do this again, without hesitation.”

Steve reached over and pulled Danny on top of him. Danny went with it; his mouth meeting Steve’s lips, kissing him with so much want and need. Pulling away, he braced both hands on top of Steve’s shoulders and nibbled on Steve’s throat, planted kisses down his chest, over the incision scar, where the bullet entered Steve’s left side.

Steve’s breath hitched with every press of Danny’s lips. “Danny…”

Danny climbed back up to hover over him, his breathing heavy. “We’ll buy the house together. Fifty-fifty.”

Steve’s arched his eyebrows, incredulous. “We’re seriously talking about this _now?”_

Danny shifted all his weight onto his left hand while he traced the hem of Steve’s boxers with his right. “Fifty-fifty and I promise you’ll have a _very_ good morning.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Are you trying to get me to agree with you by bribing me with sex?”

“I want us to be equal partners in this. The last time I shared a home with someone…,” Danny cleared his throat, remembering the guilt that’d weighed down on him about his finances with Rachel. “The last time wasn’t equitable.”

Steve reached up and ran his fingers along the side of Danny’s face in understanding. “Okay. We’ll pool our resources together, equally. It’ll be _our_ home. In every sense of the word.”

The words were like a balm to Danny’s soul. “Thank you, that…that means a lot to me.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“And I’d do anything for you too, babe.”

Steve smiled at him; the meaning behind it wasn’t subtle. “Would that include amazing morning sex?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

 

***

**Growth**

A third police cruiser veered into the other lane to pass Danny, its sirens blaring. He pulled onto the side of the road when an ambulance followed. Part of him wanted to follow, but he’d just worked ten days in a row on a high-profile robbery homicide and he was burned-out. All he wanted to do was beat Steve home and sack out on the sofa to pick out what to watch on TV first.

But a cop’s intuition was a powerful thing and he turned on his emergency scanner and listened to the dispatch.

_“We have an 11-71 in progress at 2727 Piikoi Street. Emergency vehicles on the scene. Be advised to use a Code 3 when responding.”_

Heart pounding, Danny slammed his foot on the accelerator as he fumbled with his phone to call Steve.

 

***

The neighbors had to hate them; three weeks into the construction and progress was at a crawl. New water lines had been installed and the foundation poured, but all the material to actually build things like walls and floors were stacked in the front yard. Unmoving.

Danny winced at the sound of a jackhammer as he observed the construction site. There were two more months of hammering and sawing, of answering his cell phone in trepidation about one more problem. Building a new home was stressful.

Steve talked with the head foreman before signing yet another piece of paper; by the look of things he wanted to break the clipboard in two. 

Danny watched Steve stomp over, his expression murderous. “That looked fun, let me guess. There was another delay?”

“Yeah, the wood had to be sent back for lack of quality. They had to order more and we won’t get reimbursed for the original batch for six weeks.”

It was par for the course. “And we had to pay for the new supply first.”

“Pretty much.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “And the tropical storm that is supposed to hit at the end of the week might damage the progress that’s been made this week.”

Even Mother Nature was against them. 

But Danny had a more important job at the moment. He rested his hands on Steve’s arms, firm and reassuring. “Hey, hey, take it easy. Breathe. Everything is going to be okay. Walls will go up, wiring will be done and in a few months we’ll move in.”

Steve stared at one of the faulty pallets of building materials like he wanted to set it on fire. 

“Maybe we should go to the shooting range, huh? You could go through a week’s supply of ammo, you’d like that.” Steve glared at him and Danny glared back. “Would you rather go jump out of airplane or something?”

“You’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious, but you don’t have a sense of humor to recognize its greatness.”

Steve didn’t acknowledge him, his attention instead focused at something he had zero control over. But there was more to it; Steve was a set of barriers and complications, and Danny could see right through them. 

“Come on. Unless you’re going to help lay concrete, we should go and stop terrorizing the people responsible for our new house.”

Steve didn’t budge and Danny laid a hand on a shoulder knotted with tension. “Remember what we talked about? This is a new beginning, for the both of us.”

“I know…I can’t help thinking about…you know.

“Steve, it’s hard not to dwell on the past.”

“It’s not…it wasn’t that big of a loss. I mean…”

“Just stop it. Denying how much this hurts isn’t healthy.” 

Steve cleared his throat. “It was over two months ago.”

It was a good thing that Danny was a patient man. “You do know healing doesn’t really work that way, right?”

Steve shook his head. “The three most important things in my life are you, Charlie, and Grace. That’s all that matters.”

“Steve….”

“I’m fine, Danny. Really.”

“You’re a terrible liar and are well aware that denying things isn’t going to help.”

Steve demonstrated exactly how fine he was by climbing inside his truck and driving away. Danny would be angrier if he wasn’t already aware how much pain Steve had been carrying around ever since that night.

***  
**Fully Developed**

Flames engulfed Steve’s house as it consumed wood and plaster, shards of glass littering the front lawn from where a window had blown out. The air reeked of burning, an acrid and chemical infused odor that left Danny coughing.

The heat was oppressive even from two hundred yards away. Danny stared in horror as firefighters doused the fire with water; there were over a dozen emergency personal on the scene. A third fire truck pulled up as members of the HPD kept concerned neighbors away; some of them snapping pictures to upload to social media.

Danny glanced from face to face in the crowd, at the sympatric looks he earned from various police officers working the scene, and then finally, he saw the one thing that made his heart sink even deeper. 

The flashing lights and sirens of Steve’s truck as it pulled up next to the Camaro. 

***

Despite endless delays and rising costs, most of the construction on the house got completed on Friday. Danny almost did a little dance inside his office. Of course there was still all the interior work: appliances, lighting, floor finishes, paint schemes, things he’d prefer to hire someone to finish. 

Ever since outside phase of construction ended, Steve had ducked out after work, disappearing for hours without explanation. Danny had chalked it up to a mounting case of stress and the need run it out of his system. While they’d co-habituated at each other’s places for a couple of years, building a house together was a huge step. One of the biggest.

But coming home late every day wasn’t exactly conductive to the health of their relationship, not to mention it was a little inconsiderate. Steve didn’t volunteer information about his nightly jaunts and Danny felt like he questioned enough people for the job.

So, he did what any good partner would: he tracked Steve’s cell phone. 

Danny stood on the front porch of his new house and listened to the sound of power tools coming from inside. The only vehicle parked in the driveway besides the Camaro was Steve’s truck, so unless a member of the construction crew was sleeping on the living room floor, Steve was moonlighting as a night laborer. 

Fumbling for his key to their front door, Danny took a moment to let that soak in: this was _their house_ , their place, the accumulation of a six year, eight thousand mile journey. He wasn’t a believer in fate, but what other explanation was there?

After taking a few steadying breaths, Danny walked inside to the smell of fresh cedar and a loud buzzing noise. There was a portable work light set up in the living room where Steve kneeled on the floor using a power sander. Danny drank in the sight of Steve in a white t-shirt and shorts, wearing yellow protective earphones and goggles. 

Steve loved working with his hands, on cars, gardening, practicing on the firing range. The Marquis was gone, burned up in the fire. No wonder Steve had sought another outlet.

Steve sanded along the grain of a large piece of wood, his head snapping up when Danny’s shadow loomed over his work area. 

Turning off the sander, he stood up and turned around in one fluid motion, the power tool still clasped in his hands. “Danny!”

“Hey,” Danny said his heart pounding at the sight of Steve in defensive mode. “Do you mind putting that thing down?”

Steve placed the sander on the floor and pushed his protective earphones down around his neck, the lowered his goggles so the dangled over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I happened to be in the neighborhood and saw your truck.” Danny shrugged nonchalant. 

“I was just working on some stuff.”

“Stuff, huh? Is that what you’ve been doing the last couple of weeks?” Steve folded his arms without answering. Danny took it as a yes. “You know we’re paying people to build the house, right?”

“Yeah, but this wasn’t part of the original plans.”

Curiosity piqued, Danny peered at the half assembled project of wood. “What is it?”

“It’s going to be a built-in bookshelf.”

“Built-in? Wow that’s really awesome.” Danny walked toward the section of wall where the shelf was going to be a part of. “I used to have one of these in the living room when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Goosebumps crawled across Danny’s skin, his mouth going dry at the implication of Steve’s words. “You built this for me?”

For as much as Steve enjoyed flaunting his prowess in almost anything, at this moment he sounded meek in comparison. “You used to talk about climbing up it as a kid and driving your mother crazy, so….”

“Matty and I would race each other like some damn chimpanzees.” He laughed, his thoughts turning wistful, his chest heavy. “Man, she’d yell at us so loud.”

Sniffling, he wiped at his nose and mouth. Danny looked around in the dim light with a keener eye, noticing the ceiling for the first time. “Steven, are those long box beams with trimmed crown molding, running along the ceiling of our living room?” 

“It might be.”

So, Steve had been a sneaky-sneak. What else had Danny let go unnoticed? Of course he hadn’t been inside in a few weeks.

He began walking around and stopped in front of the living room windows. “These are double hung with divided light panels.” Danny touched the stained glass that marked the end of each pane. “Oh, babe.”

Steve cleared his throat. “I wanted to add warm woodwork and more natural light.”

These were the features of the homes back in New Jersey, the style he’d always dreamed for his own house one day, things that didn’t exactly mesh in tropical Hawaii.

“Have you been reading _Architectural Today_ or something?”

“I know how to Google _Craftsman Style_.” Steve wiped sawdust from his hands over the front of his shorts. “Getting it to blend in with traditional Hawaiian architecture, well…that was trickier.”

It was then Danny noticed the fish and flowers that made up the patterns of the stained glass and the light-colored wooded beams used to compliment the ohia wood of the walls: it was the perfect fusion of Jersey and Island elements.

Warmth filled Danny’s heart at the care and consideration Steve had taken to combine things from both their lives. 

His fond expression must have been plain as day because Steve gave him one of those endearing, goofy smiles before walking over and crushing Danny to his sweat-soaked t-shirt in a hug. 

Danny chuckled in response. “This is why I thought you’d gone out for a run every night. You need a shower.”

“Well, now that you’re here, I could use a hand.”

“I think you just want to order me around some more because you can’t get enough of it at work.”

But after disentangling himself from Steve’s octopus arms, Danny started searching for another pair of safety goggles. He’d always enjoyed wood shop.

***

**Decay**

Danny laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder, to the front of his chest, touching where he could, muttering reassurances under his breath, empty platitudes in the face of such utter destruction. While Steve stood rooted to the ground, the muscles beneath Danny’s fingers trembled.

“Come on, we need to move further back,” Danny said, trying to steer him away.

But Steve wouldn’t budge; his face was blank, his gaze fixed at the flames engulfing his family home, his childhood. Danny moved in front of Steve to block the destruction from view, staring up into his face, Danny’s eyes filling with moisture at the pain Steve so valiantly held back. 

Black smoke filled the air, burning the inside of Danny’s nostrils. One of the firemen shouted at them. 

“Please,” Danny whispered, pleading. “Babe, we’ve got to go. I’m so sorry; we have to evacuate the scene.” He squeezed Steve’s hand, rubbing his freezing fingers. “Won’t leave your side, I promise.”

_I promise._

***

Danny never thought he’d get used to the sound of lapping ocean waves; now he couldn’t imagine his life without them. 

“You know we have to meet the movers at the storage unit in two hours,” Steve complained as he followed Danny toward the beach.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And you’re also aware that traffic will get heavy soon.”

“I am very aware of this, but thank you very much for informing me.”

“Danny,” Steve stopped halfway toward the shore. “We don’t have time for this.”

Instead of arguing, Danny took Steve by the arm and led him the rest of the way toward a very familiar spot on the beach, a spot with two recognizable-shaped objects covered-up by beach blankets. 

Steve stared at them. “You know I can tell what’s under those?”

“You must have been a riot on Christmas morning.” But Danny was a tad nervous, bouncing on his heels as he removed the blankets and stepped back.

Steve stared at the wooden chairs his eyes going from confusion to dawning realization, his jaw dropping. “These…these were my dad’s.”

They were on the lanai, a strip of beach Danny hadn’t been sure they’d ever stand on together again. Not during their home-hunting quest, searching through other people’s dreams. “They weren’t damaged by the fire. The flames never reached this far.”

Steve stood stock-still. “But they were gone; I couldn’t find them during the clean-up.”

“I found them in one of the dumpsters the demolition crew had rented. They were a little banged-up, but they cleaned-up as good as new.”

“Danny, I don’t know what to say….”

But for two people who didn’t count communication as a strong trait, they always knew what to say to each other. “You already did, a few days after the fire.”

Steve’s eyes looked watery when he spoke. “I asked if you’d help me start over, together.” 

Damn it if Danny’s throat choked-up when he spoke. “And I said yes, in a heartbeat.”

Danny took Steve’s hand and the two of them looked over at their home, a new life, built over the ashes of an old one. 

***  
Fini

The four stages of a fire: Incipient, Growth, Fully Developed, and Decay

Kākou. We are in this together, inclusively.

You can hang out with me here :) http://thekristen999.tumblr.com


End file.
